


I'll pick up my hiking boots when I am ready ( and I'll put down my roots when I'm dead )

by sunnyskipper



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29798205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnyskipper/pseuds/sunnyskipper
Summary: The subway behind him shoots off, startling him he gasps and jumps aside, almost tripping over his own shoes. His heart is racing in his chest, he calms himself with deep, slow breaths. This is only his imagination; he's fine, although he may be gravely injured and he'll feel the effects when he wakes up.This place is strange, to say the least, somewhat scary but intriguing at the same time. He carefully pushes past the faceless crowd whilst muttering apologies under his breathe, but they don't respond. "What the fuck..." he whispers to himself, eyes darting around, he's curious where following the end of the tunnel, or the stairs going up would lead him. He doesn't do that, instead, something sticks out from the dull colours like a sore thumb and catches his attention."...Wilbur?"( inspiration for the afterlife taken from cosmicgut's animatic "LIMBO" on youtube! )( lyrics taken from wilbur soot's song "since i saw vienna" )
Kudos: 27





	I'll pick up my hiking boots when I am ready ( and I'll put down my roots when I'm dead )

Tommy's eyes snap open, taking in a deep breath he stumbles back as the ground beneath him shakes and he crashes into what he assumes to be a wall, banging his head. He groans, clutching his throbbing head with both hands; what happened? 

He blinks his eyes open and slowly raises his head. His hands fall to his sides and his knees buckle, but he manages to stay standing upright; the colour drains from his face and he's speechless by what he sees. He's in a subway full of people, the floor beneath his feet rumbling as they move over the tracks. How did he end up here? The last thing he remembers is... being beaten up by Dream, he said something along the lines of; "go see him then", referring to Schlatt, and it all went dark.

That doesn't explain how he's suddenly in a subway surrounded by people he doesn't recognize in the slightest. Is this a hallucination? Did he black out, and now he's imagining all this? That seems to be the logical option here. 

"Um, excuse me," he hesitantly says to the person standing in front of him with their back turned, he reaches out his hand to touch their shoulder, but his hand phases straight through. His heart skips a beat and he jumps back, hitting the wall again. His eyes open wide, and as he takes in the surrounding crowd, he realizes they have no defining features, in fact they don't even have clothes, nor hair or anything of the sort. Upon closure inspection, they're nothing more than the shadows of non-existent people.

What's going on?

His heart beat quickening, he runs his fingers through his dishelved hair. Where is he? How did he get here, from a prison? This has to be a dream, of course it is, all he has to do is wake up and he'll return to reality. So come on, wake up.

Wake up.

The subway slows down to a halt, followed by the breaks squealing. The doors slide open with a happy 'ding'! But none of the faceless figures make an attempt to move. They remain in fixed positions as he cautiously pushes past them, and though he's fearful of what awaits him, he exits the carriage. 

He's surpised to find himself in an underground railway. It's dark, illuminated only by red lights he can't find the source of, and there's more shadow people, lots more in large gathering. The train has arrived; it's doors are still open, but no one makes a move, each frozen in place. He's not even sure if they can do anything, if they're even alive or conscious. 

He doesn't like this place very much. 

As he looks around, he tries to piece together what lead him here. Dream knocked him out, that asshole. When he finally wakes up from this nightmare, Sam better have him out of there and far away from that psychopath before he actually kills him. He wouldn't do that, though, he knows that for a fact; he's too fun to toy with. Dream's one sick bastard. 

The subway behind him shoots off, startling him he gasps and jumps aside, almost tripping over his own shoes. His heart is racing in his chest, he calms himself with deep, slow breaths. This is only his imagination; he's fine, although he may be gravely injured and he'll feel the effects when he wakes up.

This place is strange, to say the least, somewhat scary but intriguing at the same time. He carefully pushes past the faceless crowd whilst muttering apologies under his breathe, but they don't respond. "What the fuck..." he whispers to himself, eyes darting around, he's curious where following the end of the tunnel, or the stairs going up would lead him. He doesn't do that, instead, something sticks out from the dull colours like a sore thumb and catches his attention.

"...Wilbur?"

He doesn't believe his eyes, but he recognizes his best friend immediately. He doesn't look any different from the last time they met; he still has the same brown beanie, brown jacket that got ruined in real life under Tommy's care, it's... it's actually him. 

His heart swells and a wide, genuine smile spreads across his face. It's him! Without a doubt, he's standing right there, only a small distance away within the crowd, staring sullenly at the tracks. Tommy takes half a step forward and opens his mouth to call out his name, then sprint to his side and throw his arms around him tight, refusing to ever let go.

But the words die in his throat before he can get them out. His heart stops and dread fills his insides, climbing up his throat he swallows back the sickly feeling. His outstretched hand trembles, it falls to his side and his knees buckle, threatening to give in and drop him to the floor. The vivid memory of Phil taking Wilbur's last life replays in his mind like an old recording.

Wilbur's dead.

His hand flies up to his face, he feels something warm above his left eye. He removes his hand and stares at it, his fingers and palm are stained a deep, horrific red. 

Oh.

He looks up at Wilbur, he hasn't noticed him yet, and there's the slim chance he's being disillusion. Wilbur hasn't moved an inch, his hands shoved into his pockets his gaze remains fixated on the empty tracks ahead. The idea of walking up to him, only for his hand to phase straight through his body terrifies Tommy; but that would be for the best, right?

Because if that really is Wilbur, then that only means one, terrible thing.

"Wilbur...?" He chokes out, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. His shaky voice is heard, just barely, he watches Wilbur turn his head and their eyes meet. It's silent for a couple of seconds; zero words exchanged as they both take it all in. "It's... it's you..." Tommy whispers, his smile returning, weakly tugging at his mouth.

The dead stare on Wilbur's face drops, his brown eyes reflect pure horror, glimmering with tears. He runs towards Tommy, his jacket flowing behind him, he absent-mindedly shoves the figures out of his way and Tommy witnesses it all happen in slow-motion. He doesn't try to hold back the tears, allowing them to escape his eyes and run down his painted cheeks. "Where am I, Will...?"

He staggers forward, but that's where his body gives in. He collapses into Wilbur's open arms, they're missing the familiar warmth he desperately desires to have again, but he supposes that's what happens when you die. 

The afterlife is a strange place, it's certainly not what he expected to find. For a brief moment, he continues to believe he isn't in the afterlife at all, that this is just an out-of-body experience that'll wear off soon enough, and he'll return to that horrid prison cell, tormented by Dream. He'd once called it "a fate worse than death", now he's not so sure.

"Tommy," Wilbur starts, arms wrapped securely around Tommy, but don't pull him up. Wilbur's knees are bent and wobbly, resting his head against his chest Tommy listens to every breath; as if he's alive. "How, why, what happened... you aren't supposed to be here, Tommy, it isn't your time yet." 

When is it really someone's time, once their goals are fulfilled, when they've grown old and there's nothing more to do in life? 

_"We had some laughs. It was fun."_ He remembers Tubbo saying in his presumed final moments, something he'll never forget. _"But all good things come to an end eventually."_

Wilbur lowers himself to his knees, holding Tommy close as he does the same. "I'm sorry," Wilbur whispers, tightening his hold, he rests his head on Tommy's shoulder and tears flow from his eyes. "I, I couldn't protect you... but...." he trails off, gripping Tommy's shoulders with shaky hands, he pulls back and looks at Tommy; both crying and distraught, he flashes a small, pained smile. 

"It's not your time yet."


End file.
